


this is side one (flip me over)

by lalaluma



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Hair-pulling, Intersex, Intersex Zenyatta, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oviposition, Praise Kink, Trans Character, Trans Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, Virginity Kink, but Jamison has never done it with a robot before, but it's not enough to warrant a tag, kind of, no one is a virgin here, some hinted genyatta and roadrat, sort of but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9795161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalaluma/pseuds/lalaluma
Summary: Jamison didn’t know what he was getting into a solid 80% of the time. Either he wasn’t paying attention, forgot, or just didn’t bother trying to figure it out before charging in headfirst. Though this was more of a pitfall, honestly.||| Junkrat has no intention of getting bottom surgery in this fic and there is description of his genitals. If that causes you dysphoria, I encourage you not to read |||





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [omnic is good...](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/265421) by Quere. 



> I have this problem where I go to write short PWP and end up with a long fic with some plot and lots of feelings and like 10 of my headcanons and 6 of my kinks.
> 
> I was inspired by the comic, but other than that there's not much resemblance here.
> 
> Before you get in my face and try to tell me that I'm not allowed to write trans characters for whatever bullshit reason I counter you with the fact that I'm trans and I'm allowed to write porn with trans representation without the fact that he's trans being sexualized. That's not what this is. I'm not fetishizing him being trans. He's just a good ol' trans boy who happens to be getting pounded. Let me have this as someone who's AFAB. Comments suggesting I'm fetishizing him will be deleted.

Jamison may have only been a child during the Omnic Crisis, but the loss of limbs and home were enough to harbor an understandable distaste for omnics. Not to mention he was surrounded by people who felt the same way, which only amplified his own negative views. 

Zenyatta, to his credit, did actually understand this. The omnic knew enough to give both Australians some space, allowing them to approach him at their own pace. Mako was probably only ever going to tolerate Zenyatta’s existence at best. His loss in the Omnic Crisis was much deeper, though not as physically visible as Jamison’s. Zenyatta did not want to press the issue, especially after learning that Mako had been married once. Before the Crisis.

Jamison was a little more pliable. Only a little, though. His curiosity often got the better of him, and that opened many doors for Zenyatta to prove himself as anything but a threat. The first time he had tagged Junkrat with a Harmony Orb, he had swiped it out of the air and thrown it back at the omnic who was only trying to help. But recently Jamie had actually requested to hold an orb and allowed Zenyatta to show him how they worked. It was a very big step, Zenyatta had thought. He may never fully earn Mako’s trust, but very slowly getting Jamison to understand he wasn’t going to kill him in the night gave Zenyatta some hope he might be able to continue his late brother’s work after all.

That being said, it wasn’t like there still weren’t bad days. The new Overwatch had a lot of heart, but not nearly as much experience fighting together as the old team. And the old members sometimes got so caught up in the muscle memory of their routines before Overwatch had been disbanded that they would forget to include the new members on their plans and attacks, causing a serious rift in the team. Top that off with people like the Australians and Widowmaker who were more neutral than purely good, and you have a lot of disharmony. 

The days when these differences pulled them apart as a team were the worst for Zenyatta. People tended to look down on omnics at best as is, so when they lost a battle those negative feelings tended to rise and end up directed at the only omnic on the team. And despite what some might tell you, Zenyatta was not a saint. He had limits, and he had hit his about two “fuckin’ omnics” ago.

“Can’t fight for shit, and yer cockless scrap on top of that,” Jamison growled cruelly through gritted teeth. “I don’t really see what it is you’re good for.”

At any other time, Zenyatta would not be proud of what he would say next.

“And how would you know?”

Jamie blinked in surprise at that, and if Zen was capable of expressing emotion physically he would probably be a mirror of that wide-eyed expression. “Wha…”

“I’m sure you’ve seen many people take Omnic partners,” Zenyatta replied cooly, glad he was able to hide his panic at what had come out of his mouth with a simple change in tone. “Why is it you think that is, if we’re useless ‘cockless scrap’? What is it you think they get from such a partnership?”

After several bewildered blinks, Jamison made like he was going to say something, but stopped himself. He furrowed large brows at Zen, obviously trying to read something from that unmoving faceplate, but ultimately being unable to. Frustrated, Junkrat hobbled away without saying anything else.

***

It wasn’t until two weeks later he would hobble back, interrupting Zenyatta and Genji’s meditation by rudely smacking one of the calmly chiming orbs out of the air. It clattered to the ground with the dulled sound of bells, where Jamie placed his peg leg atop it to keep anyone from returning it. Genji had his sights trained on the Australian, ready to strike should he show further signs of aggression. Zen was focused on the orb, which due to it’s connection to himself he could vaguely feel, and hoped Jamison was not intending to break it.

“I want you to show me.”

Unsure of what Jamie was talking about, Zen offered up another of his orbs, only to have that one also knocked away and bounce off toward his student with the chime of bells.

“Not that, you fucking drongo!”

If Zenyatta could frown, he would. Genji stood now, a single hand on his sword, and Junkrat threw his arms open in a ‘come at me’ gesture. Zen waved for Genji to stand down. “What is it that you want then, Jamison?”

Junkrat looked almost angry, his mouth twisting up as he struggled with the words he clearly wanted to say but was unable to put them in order. His brows were drawn together in thought and his hands motioned in a way similar to juggling before he forcefully exhaled a deep sigh. “Would ya mind too terribly if you could, ya know,” both of Jamison’s hands made a sweeping gesture. “Tell your guard lizard to fuck off?”

Genji’s tight body language told Zenyatta he did not trust the Junker not to be a threat, but that he would trust his Master’s decision. Zenyatta understood his concern, and was not entirely certain Jamison was planning on being civil either. The Australian had a very brash and aggressive nature, it was part of the reason he needed Mako around. The larger man was capable of violence, and very good at it, but at his core he was far more collected and gentle. 

Jamison made a noise somewhere between an agitated sigh and dislodging something from his throat. “Listen, I left my body guard behind, and my weapons. You really think I can beat ya hand to hand when you can do that crazy eight arm shit? ‘Cuz I don’t.”

Huh. So he had. From his rude entrance Zen had failed to notice Junkrat was completely unarmed. He seemed to misunderstand how Transcendence worked though, as Zenyatta couldn’t actually use it for violence, but he wasn’t about to correct the Junker on that. Not yet, anyway. With a small nod, Zenyatta dismissed Genji. His pupil was hesitant, but obedient. He knew to trust his Master.

Once Genji was gone, Zenyatta turned to Jamison, patiently waiting for the man to speak. Junkrat had taken his peg leg off of the orb, using his wooden appendage to scoop it into the air where he caught it with his flesh hand, and held it out for Zenyatta to take. Gently, he plucked his orb from Jamie’s grasp, and allowed it to return to its lazy orbit chiming around the omnic. “My thanks.”

Jamison made a noise of dismissal and hobbled over to where the other orb had landed. Zen could always just make it float back to himself, but this seemed to be Junkrat’s way of apologizing for knocking them out of the air in the first place, so he let it be. Watching the extremely tall man struggle to pick up the still rolling orb put Zenyatta at ease about this confrontation, and discreetly he halted it long enough for the human to grab it.

Though he did not return this one immediately as he had before. Instead, Jamison’s robotic fingers roamed over the surface, his face calm but thinking. He could probably feel the dull energy more directly in that arm, considering he had taken it from a fallen omnic rather than had one made for humans. You had to make due with what you had in the outback. 

“You asked me somethin’ queer before,” Junkrat said carefully, one of his metal fingers trying to wiggle between two plates on the surface of the orb. Zenyatta expanded it in both of their interests, allowing Jamie to peek inside at the yellow glowing center. “Something ‘bout what I thought humans gained from human omnic relations?”

It was phrased as a question, but Zenyatta knew it wasn’t really. He felt a wash of shame at his knee-jerk reaction to Jamison’s misplaced frustration, knowing his brother would have scolded him for saying as much. Watching Jamie now solidified Zen’s belief that the human didn’t actually hate all omnics, at least he didn’t seem to hate Zenyatta. He sighed. “Ah, yes, about that. I didn’t mean to--”

“I want you to show me,” Jamie was firm. He returned the orb to Zenyatta but made no move to meet his face. Perhaps for fear of rejection. Though before he could get an answer Jamie was already rambling again. “I understand if ya got something exclusive goin’ on between you and your gecko there, though, he seems like a real fine catch--not to say I’m meaning to grab ‘im up from under ya just that--”

“Jamison.” Zen placed a hand onto Junkrat’s shoulder, who twitched at both the suddenness and the cool temperature. Instead of drawing back like his instincts told him to, Zenyatta held his ground. Amber eyes twitched as they fully examined the omnic. Possibly the first to lay a hand on him with positive intentions. Possibly the first to lay a hand on him at all. 

“...yeah?”

The notion that Zen was the first omnic to initiate physical contact with Jamison was...interesting, to say the least. He gave the shoulder in his grasp a soft, assuring squeeze, and reveled in the release of tension found there. Junkrat was starting to trust him with touch, which was good if he was serious about this. “If this is really what you want, we can meet up after the rest of you have your dinner.”

“Oh,” Junkrat squawked. He hadn’t expected this to go so well. He actually kind of expected rejection, or for a jealous Genji to leap from the bushes and gut Jamison for moving in on his robo-boo. “I, um, is there anything I should? Uh,” he stuttered and laughed nervously. Someday, he would need to learn to plan ahead. Maybe write a script on his flesh hand? Nah, that’d never work, it’d be covered in gunk and soot before he made it out the door. Luckily, Zen was patient with him, as he was with everything. “Where is it? That you want us to meet, I mean.”

Though his faceplate was incapable of expression, the slight tilt of his head gave the same impression of a smile. “I have a room, though I am not in need of one,” cool, smooth metal fingertips lingered longer than necessary, dragging over the calloused skin of Jamison’s palm to collect the orb there. Junkrat shuddered, and while he was known to twitch and convulse at random, this was distinct and with a clear cause. “However, it may be easier for you to meet me at the greenhouse first.”

The grin Jamison gave him was borderline manic, the giggle doubly so.

***  
There was a clear divide between the plants Winston cared for, the small garden the Shimada brothers were growing together, and Zenyatta’s plants. Winston’s were all very even and organized, exclusively practical, in simple pots, with automatic watering systems. The Shimada’s had hand painted pots, many containing fruits and vegetables, some containing delicate flowers. They also had two small cushions, side by side, to kneel to care for their plants and meditate, and lacked automatic watering systems. The Shimada’s took care of their plants manually, in an attempt to rebuild their bond. Jamison had no idea how that was going for them, because he didn’t really have a place in the greenhouse or with the Shimada brothers in general, but the plants were doing well.

Zenyatta’s plants all lived in glass planters, exposing roots and dirt and smooth stones, or in clear glass terrariums hanging from a simple wooden arbor that had a single grape vine twisting and growing along it. Jamison let one of his human fingers twist into one of the delicate spirals sprouting off the vine, watching Zenyatta water several surprisingly colorful succulents. Zen must have known Jamie was there, must have heard him enter. Jamison was not a graceful man by any means, and his entries were never known for their stealth.

“I must say,” Zen’s perpetually soothing voice was directed at Jamison, even if the rest of him was not. Jamison often suspected the slots that appeared to be the Shambali’s eyes were not his only way of seeing, and may not even actually be eyes at all. Junkrat didn’t know much about these omnics that appeared more human, never could trust them after one self-destructed at his touch, losing him half his limbs, but he did know parts of them were more for aesthetics than function. Like Zenyatta’s legs, which he rarely used in favor of floating. “I was uncertain if I would be seeing you here tonight.”

“What, didja think I was joshing you?” Junkrat grinned, chuckling airily. Gently placing his watering pot down, Zenyatta hummed thoughtfully. “Thought I was--” Jamison grinned, moved closer to Zen, but hesitated to touch him a moment. He hoped it wasn’t noticeable. It was. Before he could kill the light-hearted mood, Jamison grabbed Zenyatta’s ankle and jerked back. “--pullin’ your leg?”

The joke earned him a blithe chuckle from the omnic, which Junkrat soaked up. Positive attention was never something Jamie had ever had enough of, so when he got it he ate it up like a man starving. For a moment, he grinned in a way that was more traditional and less demented, but just for a moment.

Junkrat’s hearing was far from the best, so he couldn’t pinpoint where exactly, but somewhere in the greenhouse a pot scuffed against the floor. They were not alone.

Jamison dropped Zen’s cool ankle as if it were smouldering hot. He had a reputation to keep, after all. Couldn’t let the whole world know he was friendly, let alone to an omnic. And if Roadhog saw him? He’d never listen to Jamie again, he’d brush off anything and everything Junkrat had to say with “big talk from the omnic lover”. Torb may stop letting him use the workshop. Jamie needed access to the workshop, he needed to be able to work with his hands, to get his ideas out into physical form. Without that, his fingers would itch and he would have too much energy under his skin and--

“Please forgive Genji, it appears he has followed,” Though it seemed impossible, Zen looked disappointed. “He still does not trust that you mean me no harm. Since Mondatta, there has been much fuss over my well-being,” Zenyatta sighed, moving past Jamie in a way that should be overly familiar. His metal fingertips tapped softly against the glass of a hanging terrarium, moving it aside to make enough room for them both to exit Zen’s section of the greenhouse. “You must understand--”

“I don’t gotta understand shit!” Junkrat snapped, though he didn’t mean to. He couldn’t help it. He was moving on instinct. Jamison had let himself get too sucked into his insecurities. “If anyone should be worried about being alone and unarmed here it’s me! You don’t--you’ve got no right tellin’ me what I--” His voice was getting louder, more warbly, more unhinged. He was suffocating. “You don’t have any idea what it was like out there!”

Zenyatta extended a hand, and Jamie couldn’t help but flinch away. A faint yellow glow radiated from the ring impression in his palm, and just the sight of it was soothing. Jamie didn’t know what made Zen’s “Harmony” work, but immediately the tension began to leave him. “I know, I’m sorry, I should have worded that better,” his robotic voice was practically a coo, low and quiet, sympathetic. “Before Overwatch I only knew Nubani, there is still much I have to learn. Please forgive me. It was not my intention to tell you how to react.”

The Harmony energy emanating from the omnic’s left hand calmed Jamie as a whole, but he could almost feel it in a different way in his own robotic forearm. Like a magnetic pull, drawing it closer. These parts matched. “Yeah,” Jamison’s voice was rough, but much quieter now. Always a creature of impulse, he allowed himself to extend his right arm. Tentatively, he let his metal palm rest just over Zenyatta’s. The contact sent a wave of serenity over him. “I, uh...I guess I can let this one slide.”

“Thank you,” Zen skirted his hand up, so his fingers curled around Jamison’s bicep, and pulled him away from the greenhouse. “Genji,” He called back pointedly, “will not follow us from this point.”

Jamison laughed into his hand at the scolding, and everything about Zenyatta’s body language said loose and affectionate. Though he would never admit it, Junkrat was glad to have met the omnic. So much of his hate of the robots came from fear; fear that started by being raised by people who lived the Crisis, and was catalyzed when he was a boy trying to take apart what seemed to be an inactive omnic for scrap and instead found it grabbing him and initializing a self-destruct. Hate was easier than being scared. Hate gave him the illusion that he was in control instead of being controlled.

Zen’s insistence on showing Jamie he wasn’t a threat had helped greatly in easing away from that fear, even if it was specific to Zenyatta. Junkrat wouldn’t be caught dead within twenty feet of Bastion, no matter how vehemently Zen insisted that they were as scarred by the crisis as anyone. The guy had a machine gun for a hand and turned into both a turret and a tank. Jamison would keep his spot far, far behind the battle omnic, thanks. 

But as they walked down a hall Jamie had never been in before, he wasn’t scared of what might happen. He didn’t fear that Zen’s grip would tighten and he would hear that haunting beep of a countdown timer, or that he would use his ability to suddenly materialize six extra arms to absolutely tear Junkrat apart and leave him for dead where no one would find him, which was certainly an improvement. Most of his fear now with Zenyatta was his concern that one of the other, more emphatically anti-omnic members of Overwatch would see them together and punish Jamie for it.

It gave him a bit of emotional whiplash if he thought about it too long, so he tried to just push it out of his mind.

Zenyatta’s room was exceedingly simple. It was the same size as any of the other single bedrooms, but it hardly looked lived in. There was a too-neatly made bed that showed no signs of use (though this was somewhat expected, as the omnic had no need for actual sleep), a single chair by the large window where Zenyatta was drawing the heavy curtains, more to soothe Jamie’s fears of being caught than to block the moonlight, and a closet, which upon inspection proved to contain simply the variants of robes Zenyatta wore, a few headdresses and...where those different heads entirely? Junkrat shuddered at the idea of Zenyatta popping off his head and screwing on another. The bird ones were slightly less terrifying than the nutcracker head, which was far too puppet-like for comfort. Jamie closed the closet and attempted to push the thoughts from his mind, though when he turned around Zenyatta appeared to be staring at him. He giggled nervously.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” He grinned sheepishly. Well, sheepish for Junkrat. “Roadie’s always telling me I got no sense of personal space.”

Zen waved off the comment. “No need to explain. If I had wanted to keep you out I would have locked the door. You would be hard pressed to find something I keep hidden.” Seeming to sense Jamie’s sudden interest, he clarified. “About myself, anyway. I have no intention of revealing the secrets of my student.”

“Boooo,” Jamie whined, flopping back onto the uncomfortably tidy bed. Though for a moment he hummed in thought. “If that’s the case, how come you’re not back in Nubani? Not trying to imply nothin’, just that the temple seems like the safest place for ya. Why join Overwatch?”

“An excellent question,” Zen chimed, unfolding his legs to stand at his full height, walking over to adjust the lighting and heat of the room. “After Mondatta, the Shambali needed a leader, and I was to be that leader. But I still have much to learn, I only know the ways of the world through text and tales and not personal experience. So when Genji got the call to return to Overwatch, I joined him.”

“So you ran away.”

“In a sense, I suppose you could say that,” Zenyatta agreed. “What about you, if you don’t mind me asking?”  
Junkrat shrugged, further mussing the comforter he was sprawled on. “Me ‘n Roadie got more enemies than friends, but we also got a set of skills that ain’t easy to come by and public records to prove our experience. We’ve had an opportunity to go straight before, to do things by the book, but it was a trap, so we was a little cautious when we got the offer. But the monkey said he’d get our names cleared and we could keep what we took so long as we played by his rules from now on, and he ain’t done us wrong yet.” Jamie grinned wide as Zen made his way back around to where Jamie was half off the bed, giggling slightly to mask his nerves. “And I mean I got nothin’ to sneeze at. I get paid to blow shit up and don’t have to worry about repercussions. I do sometimes miss the chase, though, but I mean ya get basically the same rush from being shot at which there’s no shortage of.”

Zenyatta hummed. “It seems this is the best outlet for you, then. I’m glad you find your work fulfilling,” his tone carried a smile his face could not. Gingerly, he reached out and rested a hand on Jamie’s knee made up mostly of bolts and springs, fingers rested over the releases. “Do you mind?”

Junkrat gave a wordless reply in the way of a hand motion to continue and tried to stamp down his anxiety about being physically disabled. Being unable to make a speedy escape was a fear he had not just with omnics, but with anyone. If the wrong junkers caught you with your pants down they had no qualms with shoving you over and taking your shit.

Though he waited, he didn’t feel the familiar pressure release of his lower leg being removed, and Jamie chanced a glance down. Zenyatta wasn’t moving. He was waiting for explicit permission. He would never admit it, but having someone be this careful and cautious with him brought warmth to Jamison’s chest. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure, go ahead,” he tried for casual but missed by an octave or two, but this seemed to be enough for Zenyatta.

The release buttons required more force than, say, the ones on McCree or Symmetra’s arms might take, as his were in more desperate need of a thorough cleaning. Their inner workings were slightly clogged with soot and dirt, and Zen seemed to take note of this as he set the peg leg in the unoccupied chair. Returning to the bedside, he took up Jamison’s partial leg once more, this time to gently massage the stump. 

Unwilling to ruin this moment by asking about the nature of his amputations, Zenyatta gathered what he could from only touch and sight. Zenyatta could tell from the firmness of the tissue and how well healed the wound was that this was not a wound Junkrat had sustained recently, or even within the last few years. He had been missing his leg for at least ten years, judging by these things alone. With the artificial knee gone, Zen could see long, jagged scars running up from the base of the stump, indicating it had been something violent like crushing or an explosion that did this, and not something slow and painful like an infection. As he moved his thumbs in small circles around the base of the leg, Zen allowed his fingers to occasionally get caught in the grooves of these longer scars and move up them, breaking up some of the stiffness found there.

If the deep sigh and melting of tension were anything to go by, Jamie was a fan of this. He wasn’t too used to being pampered like this, wasn’t used to letting people close enough to even dream about seeing him so vulnerable, and certainly wasn’t gentle enough to do it for himself. Sometimes Roadhog would offer to, on days Junkrat was feeling particularly sore, but rarely did he allow himself to accept such offers. He was sincerely regretting this now, however, as his leg felt the best it had been in years. Perhaps on the next rainy day when his scars felt their worst, he would find his way back here. 

“Mate, I gotta tell ya, I’m already starting to see the appeal of omnic partners,” Junkrat sighed contentedly, though whined when the massage stopped.

“Would you like us to stop here, then? There is no pressure for you to continue if you do not want,” Zenyatta asked. As an omnic and a monk, unless he allowed himself he rarely felt any sort of sexual drive, and would be unaffected should Jamie choose to stop at any time. He was confident in his offer to go no further should that be what the junker wished.

“No! No, no way,” Jamie sat up, looking Zenyatta in his presumed eyes. “I didn’t come here for just a massage; don’t matter how amazing it is...unless that is you want to stop?”

The junker never ceased to surprise Zenyatta, and he chuckled at this realization. “No, I’d still like to continue,” Jamie sighed in relief and muttered something in appreciation. Zen’s voice was amused when he asked: “why don’t you lay on your stomach?” 

Jamison agreed and shuffled onto his belly, silently grateful that he was not being asked to remove his arm. Behind him, the omnic moved to place a knee on either side of his thighs to get close enough to work on his back. Though they had just been handling his leg, Zenyatta’s fingers were still a little cold, and Jamie’s back was leagues more sensitive than the scar tissue of his leg, and he twitched and yelped some at first. But as the smooth metal plating of Zen’s fingers strategically pressed and pulled into the muscles along his spine he couldn’t help the almost-moan that slipped past his lips.

The massage had started at his the base of his neck and worked down from there, leaving relaxed muscle and a content Junkrat in it’s wake, and he was on a weird edge of nearly being asleep and being kind of turned on by the time Zen’s thumbs found the dimples above his hips and dug in. At this point, Jamie was trying to focus more on the different tension building up slowly in an attempt to stay awake and focused on the task at hand when the hands continued past his dimples and found themselves grabbing handfuls of his rear. Jamison buried his face in a bit of bunched up comforter to quiet the high pitched noises he was making as Zenyatta worked his fingers into his soft ass over the material of his shorts. With a whine, Junkrat pushed back against the pressure, only to have it be removed, and the hands grab and shove down his hips. 

Zenyatta leaned forward, pinning Jamie’s hips with his own and bracketing his head with his arms, and asked in a low tone “I take it you want to continue?” Jamison replied by shoving his hips back against Zen’s, but he made no move to continue. It took Junkrat several moments to realize he needed to vocalize his consent, again, and he groaned. 

“Yes! Yes, please, so can you fucking--” his words turned into a yelp as one hand slipped under him to depress the buckle of his belt while two more yanked down on his shorts, all the while the two by his head never moved. Oh. That was...kind of exciting, actually. To think earlier in the week he was concerned that those extra arms Zenyatta could seemingly materialize were a danger to him, and now he was anticipating how they could be used made him giggle as he shimmied to help get his pants off. 

Zenyatta let one of his extra hands drag down Jamison’s back and along the crack of his rear, adding a playful amount of pressure over his hole, and continued it’s path down, it’s goal to massage Jamie’s balls when “Wait!”

Removing his hand from the area, letting it instead rest on Jamie’s hip, he waited.

“It’s just…” Jamison squirmed, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t want you to stop I’m just...I might not match what you’re thinkin’...down there.”

Shifting back to sit on Junkrat’s thighs, Zenyatta found he was again surprised by the junker, though not unpleasantly. “Are you okay with me touching you here? Or will that make you uncomfortable.”

“Listen, I’m about to be real uncomfortable if you don’t start touching me, alright?”

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Zenyatta’s amusement was clear in his voice. This time it was his physical hands that came to touch him, one continuing to massage his ass, while the other had two fingers finding their way between his folds to play with the nub of his enlarged clit. 

The cry Jamison let loose was loud and cracked his voice as he pushed back against the hands touching him, and it earned him a smack on the rear, which only seemed to encourage him. Zenyatta quickly realized the only way to really stop him would be to hold him down. 

Two hands pulled up on Jamie’s hips while another pressed in between his shoulder blades, keeping him in a face-down ass-up position, while two others grabbed his thighs and help them apart. Junkrat was moaning and whining and gripping at the comforter for dear life as Zenyatta continued to work him over, smacking his ass every now and again to keep him on his toes, while his final free hand grabbed the tube of lube from under his bed where he had stored it earlier today. 

“You’re doing so well, Jamison,” Zenyatta cooed, lubricating the fingers of the hand that hand been on his rear, while the hands holding his hips up found better use of their time holding his cheeks apart. Jamison shuddered at the praise underneath him, becoming even wetter around his fingers. Zen remembered that this was undoubtedly the first time an omnic had gotten to touch Junkrat like this, and he, too, shuddered. “You’re being such a good boy for me,” he praised Jamison, circling his asshole twice before breaching it. 

“Fuck!” Junkrat cried, as he suddenly felt the hot tingling sensation signaling he was close as Zenyatta worked a long finger into him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Zen, please, I’m gonna lose it,” He sobbed. Zenyatta’s lazy circles around his clit became more focused, quicker, and a second finger joined the first in his ass. It was too much, and he found himself practically screaming as he released from between Zenyatta’s fingers. 

Zenyatta paused as Jamison shuddered and panted with the aftershocks of his orgasm, not wanting to overwhelm him to the point of pain when he was oversensitive like this. Once the tremors died down, Zenyatta began to ask him “Do you wish to--”

“If you ask me if I want to stop one more time I’m gonna rip out your voice box and ride ya ‘till I feel like I’ve had enough.”

Zenyatta paused and for a moment Jamie wondered if he’d gone too far, when a deep, slightly sinister “Understood,” came from behind him and a third finger was added. The fingers scissored about, stretching Jamison farther than he considered necessary, though he was also operating under the assumption that he was going to be taking a dick up there. When the fingers pulled away, however, he learned how wrong he was. 

At first it felt like a dick, a really fucking wide one but Jamie wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though he started to wonder if he should when the object was instead was sucked in completely by his greedy ass. It was a...sphere? Oh. No, more specifically it was an orb. One of Zenyatta’s orbs. Zen was rubbing circles into his ribs, praising him, but all he could focus on was how one of the orbs somehow had just fit inside his ass. 

“I can make them smaller, more dense, to make them travel faster. Still a feat for them to fit inside of you, however. And an incredible sight.”

And apparently that had come out as a verbal thought. Another lubed-up orb pressed at his entrance, only catching for a moment before sinking in. Junkrat was panting at the sensation of being filled this way, in a way he’d never even imagined before a week ago. (Because, honestly, the thought had crossed his mind but he didn’t think it was a possibility.) But when the third sunk in he cried out as it gently collided with the other two inside of him, causing all three to vibrate softly with the movement. 

The hand at his ribs moved down to play with his clit again, this time with his thumb, and Jamison knew what that meant. “Wait,” he panted out, needing a moment to collect himself. “Don’t...don’t bother fingering me there, mate. I can handle the stretch, prefer it actually, just…” He shifted and the orbs collided again, making him moan. “Please! Just please fuck me!”

“How can I say no when you ask me like that?” Zenyatta purred, and Jamison could hear the telltale sounds of fabric sliding down and lube being applied liberally.

Jamie decided he was broken as Zen’s silicone cock entered him, the motion jostling the orbs in his ass and rubbing along his g-spot, absolutely body slamming him over the edge a second time. He’d never had sex this mind-meltingly good before,and the fact that he was having it with an omnic was something else altogether. 

“You’re being very good for me, Jamison,” Zenyatta encouraged him, wiping away a few stray tears that had been shed from overstimulation. He didn’t ask if Jamison wanted to continue or not, he just gave him some time to catch his breath and waited to see what he would do. After a few moments, Jamie felt recovered enough and rocked back onto Zenyatta, enjoying the motion of the orbs and the feel of his dick and unafraid to vocalize that. Two orgasms in, however, he had already lost most of his steam, and required Zen to do most the work.

Which he had no qualms about. In fact he rather liked being able to slowly drag and push his cock along Jamison’s g-spot, all the while pushing two more orbs in to join the others. The motion and slight vibration in his ass was driving Junkrat crazy, but Zenyatta wasn’t quite done with him yet. The arms pulled Jamison up into a reverse cowboy position, holding him up while Zenyatta lazily thrust up into him and the orbs clacked against one another, massaging him completely on their way down and out.

His hole clung to the first one, not quite willing to let it go, so Zenyatta gave him a single sharp, powerful thrust up to knock it loose that had Jamie seeing stars. In its wake, Zen pushed three fingers back inside of him, feeling the next orb and flicking his fingers against it teasingly. When Junkrat begged him to let him pass the next one, he pulled his fingers out with a chuckle, though one of the extra hands made it’s way into Jamison’s hair and pulled down as Zenyatta started a new pace of holding down the junker’s hips as he began to grind harshly up against all of him.

Jamison wasn’t sure when he had started crying from the stimulation, but he had as one of the hands made of light began to dry away his tears. Unlink Zenyatta’s actual hands which needed to be warmed up, the ones made of light were always warm and comforting. There was some connection to be made between the warmth of the hands and The Iris, but Jamison couldn’t make it as the second orb was worked out of him with the help of Zen’s long, thin fingers. 

By the third orb, Junkrat tipped over the edge one last time with the help of fingers on his clit. His sobbing was completely literal as he lost himself for the third time tonight. Though this time, instead of waiting, Zen sped up his thrusts, and encouraged the final orbs with his psychic link to them and, shit, Jamie forgot he could feel these things. He could literally feel himself on both ends of Jamison, and if he wasn’t already completely spent that would have had him. As it was his clit still gave an interested twitch, but nothing more. A few thrusts later, Zenyatta let out a low groan and Jamison could feel something thick and sticky pool inside of him and begin to dribble out. It was something more like a thick lubricant in place of semen.

Once released, Zenyatta laid Jamison down on a dry spot on the mess of a comforter and left to get some rags to clean up with. Jamie had nearly fallen asleep by the time he was being wiped at with a warm, wet cloth, followed by a dry one. He would have been content to, too, if Zen hadn’t woken him up more fully with a slight jostle. 

“I wouldn’t mind your company, but I fear Roadhog will wonder where you are, and will not take kindly to finding you passed out in my room.”

Jamison made a noise of bleary agreement and sat up, rubbing at his eyes. He moved to stand but Zen grabbed his arm. “Wait,” He asked, and pulled Jamie’s hand between his thighs, underneath his rapidly deflating cock, to feel...lips? “I don’t want you to service me here, I just,” Zenyatta made a noncommittal motion with his free hand. “I just wanted to show you that I have one, too.”

Jamison grabbed the back of Zenyatta’s head, pulled him in and kissed his cool metal forehead. “You’re sweet,” he purred, dragging his fingers across the small hood as he removed his hand. Zenyatta made a breathy sound of appreciation and chuckled at the sudden affection from the junker.

Zen walked Jamison back to his room, occasionally acting as a cane, and they talked idly. They both agreed this had been a pleasurable experience they wanted to try again sometime soon, and when it was time to say goodbye, Jamison looked about before pressing a quick kiss to about where Zenyatta’s lips would be if he had them, and thanked him for a good time.

Back in the hall where Zenyatta and Genji had claimed their rooms, Genji was trying to pull information about Junkrat from his master and failing. Zenyatta informed him that not only was it information Genji need not know about, but that earlier he had denied Jamison information about Genji, and it was only fair that the reverse was the same.

While inside his shared room, Roadhog was already waiting, reading a book he put down the second Junkrat came in the door. Jamie immediately curled up in bed, but Mako was practically sniffing him, trying to find out where he had been and why he was so damn calm and tired, to which Jamison simply shoved his face away and insisted he had been training with Zenyatta. Though his manic giggle at the end made Roadhog suspicious, he couldn’t question him further as he fell asleep, sprawling over the majority of the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I need more fics with Junkrat getting lovingly fucking plowed by Zenyatta, honestly.
> 
> Shout out to the people who have been waiting for this since I talked about it in Black Nail Polish and #FreeTheNipple, which you should totally read if you like my writing. Also as a sidebar here I kind of just wanted to call this fic "flip me over" but I felt the reference would be lost.
> 
> Also, if you like Roadrat, I have another fic planned for them that's an origin story, but that may be delayed as I work on a The Wolf Amoung Us fic I've been planning for the better part of a year. Who knows? You would think I would, but I don't know a damn thing, my guy.


End file.
